June 18, 2007

Killing Queen

Everyone knows that I love sports. Not just like. Love. When I was a little kid I really didn't care about them much. Maybe it was because my parents weren't the biggest of sports fans, or maybe it was because we didn't stop moving around and settle in one area until I was about 5, but for most of my early years I was much more interested in pretending to be Wolverine or building spaceships out of LEGOs to care about who was going to make it out of the NFC East. It wasn't until I reached highschool, the same season Elway finally won the big one against Favre and the Packers in possibly the greatest Super Bowl ever, that I started to give a shit. I can't tell you much about the history of anything, and I don't know every stat under the sun, but I know enough to back up an opinion. And while football might be my favorite, I'm the only one in my house that follows all four of the major sports along with tennis and a few others.

I think it's the purity of sports that appeals to me the most. There are no loopholes where you can create unfair advantages (ideally, this is usually the case). Unlike life, sports allow people to compete against each other in a world with boundaries defined by rules; a world where physical ability is often no more important than skill or intelligence; a world that can unify entire cities as they root and cheer for "their" players, for "their" team. And unlike life, it's a world where your pedigree doesn't matter and where what you do is more important than the name on your back.

Take highschool for instance. One of the highlights is always the crowning of a homecoming queen: after all, who doesn't want to see five of the schools hottest freezing in evening gowns while riding on the back of some locals' Corvette? My senior year it was Lindsey Ruoff; nice enough girl, tall and beautiful, but that was about it. I can think of three girls off the top of my my head who were just as attractive, had "top third" GPA's, and either played sports or were heavily involved in activities. And therein lies the problem with homecoming: the queen almost never represents the absolute best the class has to offer. It's always the one with the prettiest face or the "it" girl that everyone had the hots for since 3rd grade. In a small town, you're name is almost always more important than what you've done. Even when we were young, you always had at least one kid make the all-star team because he used to be a stud (even though other kids have since surpassed him in ability).

Hmmmm. . . . maybe the world of sports isn't always as perfect as I'd like it to be. Recently, ESPN asked five football experts who the best quarterback in the NFL was, which can always be broken down to a choice between Peyton Manning and Tom Brady. Astonishingly, the unanimous choice was Peyton Manning. The argument against Manning had always been that he'd failed to win "the big one", but that his recent Superbowl victory cemented his place as the leagues' best. What's even more astonishing is that I'm one of the few people who feel otherwise, who think Manning is over-appreciated and who'd take Brady over anyone else taking snaps in the league today. When I told Jay about the article and how I wanted to write about it, his response was "how is that even something you can write about?" In other words, like myself, he didn't see where an argument could even be made. The Brady-Manning debate is a classic, so here's my take on it.

1. Just like the ESPN experts, Peter King recently rated Manning over Brady because Manning had finally "put all the can't-win-the-big-one stuff behind him." In the minds of many, he always had the stats to place him as one of the best but lacked the post-season success to be the best. Until this past year, Manning's postseason career looked as follows: 9 games, 193 of 362 passes (53%), 2461 yds (273.4 ypg), 15 TDs, 8 INTs, 3-6 record (for the record, his playoff numbers currently stand at 61%, 18 TD, 15 INT, 7-6). Clearly unimpressive, especially when you consider his regular season prowess (64% completion, 0.639 winning percentage, 7 pro-bowls and the second-best passer rating of all time at 94.4). His failures in the post-season are even more apparent when compared to Brady's playoff statistics (61% completion, 229.8 ypg, 20 TDs, 9 INTs, 12-2 record and 3 Super Bowls).

Most would say that his 4 post-season wins this past year indicate he has gotten over the "hump", but take a closer look at those victories and you'll see the evidence just isn't there. I'll admit, Manning's come from behind victory against the Patriots in the AFC Championship game in which he overcame a 21-6 halftime deficit was one of the best playoff performances by a QB in NFL history. During that half, he engineered 5 scoring drives (including a game winning 80 yard TD drive with less than 2 minutes left), threw and rushed for a touchdown, and had no interceptions. However, this would be the only impressive half for Manning's entire 2006 post-season. He threw just one touchdown but three interceptions against a soft Kansas City defense, played horribly with a 39.6 passer rating against the Ravens, produced only two fieldgoal drives and an interception in the first half of the Patriots game, and "won" the sloppiest Super Bowl I've ever seen by passing for a whopping 247 yards with one touchdown and two turnovers. Seriously, do those numbers really impress anyone?

What's more, one could argue that those games were not so much won by the Colts but lost by their opponents (yes, there is a HUGE difference). Going into the playoffs, the Colts had the worst run defense in the league and teams like Tennessee, Jacksonville and Houston (combined record 22-26) were able to easily defeat them simply by running it down their throats. So how was the Colts' Achilles heel exposed during their playoff run to glory? Larry Johnson and the Chiefs ran the ball a measly 17 times, the Ravens ran it 20 times in a fieldgoal-only extravaganza, and the Bears rushed only 19 times in spite of the fact that it was raining and were rushing for 5.8 yards a pop in the game. Why these teams didn't pound the ball at least 30 times against the Colts in each of these games is something I'll never be able to understand.

2. For his career, Peyton Manning had far better weapons at his disposal than Brady ever did, period. This really isn't debatable. If he can avoid injuries, Manning will eventually hold most of the passing records in the NFL, but as everyone drools over the numbers he puts up year after year, the numbers of Marvin Harrison are continually overshadowed. While the "best QB of all-time" debate truly is a debate, Jerry Rice and his 13 pro-bowls and 3 Super Bowl victories is without a doubt the best wide receiver of all time. Yet by the end of Manning's career, Marvin Harrison might break most, if not all, of Rice's 12 NFL receiving records.

Along with Edgerrin James (4 time pro-bowler, 1999-2005), Reggie Wayne (skilled enough to be a #1 receiver on most NFL teams), and a consistently impressive offensive line, Manning has always had an abundance of talent on the offensive side of the ball. Tom Brady? Not so much. In the last six NFL seasons (the limit of my internet searching ability) the Patriots have sent only 2 offensive players (both linemen) to the Pro-Bowl whose names were NOT Tom Brady. Over that same span, the Colts had 16 other offensive players make their way to Hawaii. On top of that, with the possible exception of Corey Dillon, can you name anyone Brady has played with to this point that is a Hall of Fame possibility? Would you have the same answer with regards to Peyton Manning? I didn't think so either.

What's more, Manning has thrived in what has essentially been an unchanged system for his entire career. Does this mean that the great Peyton Manning may simply be nothing more than a glorified "system" quarterback? Hell no. But the same cannot be said about Brady. Not only has Brady been able to win with a seemingly endless parade of no-name players, he's done so in an adaptive offensive system that operates year to year based on their available personnel.

3. When talking about Peyton Manning, statistics are the one thing people most often point to as an indicator of his greatness. Indisputable numbers are incredibly valuable tools when talking about any topic. Hell, up to this point, the majority of my arguments have been backed up by researched stats and numbers. But we often forget that statistics are tools and nothing more.
Stats are incredibly helpful, but at a certain point, you have to incorporate analysis, homework and opinion as well. There are intangibles that must be taken into account that cannot be reflected in stats alone.

What my intuition and analysis tells me is this: when it comes to game day, there's only on quarterback in the league that I don't want to see lining up against my team, and that QB is Tom Brady. For every impressive statistic Manning has produced, Brady has an equally impressive fact regarding the most important factor of all: winning. While the Colts started the 2005 season with 13 straight victories, the Patriots hold the NFL record for most consecutive wins with 21. Manning is 7-6 in the playoffs while Tom Brady holds the record for most consecutive playoff wins at 10. Manning will eventually pass Marino as the best statistical QB in NFL history, but Brady currently has the highest career win% of any QB ever. Brady has never really had a terrible outting in the playoffs, but Manning has had at least four instances of playing at a sub-70 passer-rating level (Ravens '06, Patriots '03 and '04, Jets '02). And in the end, isn't winning and producing when your team needs you to the most important things for any player in any sport? Statistics are tangible, which is why they are so universal and convenient, but it's the intangibles that often decide who wins and who goes home, and Brady certainly has all the right intangibles.

When everything's said and done though, it's highschool all over again. Peyton and his pedigree have been the apple of the NFL's eye since he was drafted out of Tennessee. His father played in the league, and now his younger brother does too. He's always had the accolades, always been in the spotlight, and everyone has been so desperate for him to win a championship that they couldn't wait to hand him the Superbowl MVP even when offensive line and running-back tandum deserved it more. He's the homecoming queen that everyone has been waiting to crown since 1999. Then there's blue-collar Tom Brady, who had to fight for playing time his senior year at Michigan even after leading them to a conference title his junior year. Lacking the hype, he was famously drafted late in the 6th round and played second fiddle to Drew Bledsoe for two years. When he stepped in due to injury, all he did was lead the Patriots all the way to their first ever championship. But he doesn't have the name, doesn't have the pedigree, and doesn't have the flashy numbers that Manning does. All he does is win, but I guess winning isn't what always gets you the crown.

Some other sports notes:- In case you missed it, the first round playoff series between the #1 Dallas Mavericks and the #8 Goldenstate Warriors was one of the best playoff series I've ever seen in any sport. It wasn't great in a "back-and-forth-struggle-leading-to-a-game-seven" way, but in an inspiring underdog performance sort of way. Three things that made this series enjoyable:
  1. Dirk Nowitzki won the league MVP, by default, because he was the best player on the best team. To me, that isn't what the award represents. If you had the first pick of any player in the league to be on your team, Kobe would probably be the player you'd pick. Not Dirk, a 7-footer with a weak post game. The rumor around the league this year was that his playoff struggles against the Heat in the finals last year had haunted him to the point of severe motivation. It was promised by everyone that we'd see a new Dirk this year in the playoffs, an improved Dirk, an unstoppable Dirk. Instead, we saw his shooting percentages and ppg drop from his regular season numbers and watched him fail to carry his team when they needed him the most. The only thing more enjoyable than watching the collapse of a paper-champ MVP was watching Mark Cuban twist in agony as his team lost yet again in disappointing fashion.
  2. On the other end of the spectrum, Baron Davis finally lived up to the hype that had followed him his entire career and put on a show for the ages. He imposed his will on the Mavericks, made more incredible shots than I care to remember, and slashed to the basket consistently against one of the best defensive teams during the regular season. The best was his 20 points, 10 rebounds and 6 assists in the series-clinching game 6 win on a pulled hamstring.
  3. Perhaps the best feature of this series was the Goldenstate home crowd. Bill Simmons summed it up best:
    These things don't happen at Warriors and Knicks games because they're the only two places left with old-school fans, fans who have been coming to games for 30-40 years, fans of all colors, fans who genuinely understand basketball and every nuance that comes with it. They don't need a giant video screen to help them out; hell, they don't want the giant video screen to help them out. These are the fans who recognize a beautiful pass as it's happening, not after it happens, simply because they love basketball and see the same angles players see. These are the fans who instinctively understand stuff like, "Michael Pietrus just threw down a ridiculous putback; I'm going to stand and keep cheering for an extra 30 seconds because he's a young kid and we need to keep pumping him up so he'll do it again."
- A few weeks ago, the comparative influences of Michael Jordan and Tiger Woods were discussed on ESPN, which led to an interesting debate in the house about whose accomplishments were more impressive. Since it's impossible to determine, let's assume that it's equally difficult to reach the peak of skill and physical conditioning in golf as it is in basketball. For me, Jordan and his six championships are more impressive than Tiger and his 12 because, in my mind, direct competition is more difficult than indirect competition.

Let me explain. In golf, you're not so much playing against other players as you are playing against yourself and the course. It shouldn't matter who else is playing, what their score is, or where on the leader board you are. During a competition, these factors can affect your decisions, like when to play aggressive or when to sit back conservatively, but at the end of the day you're just going out there and trying to shoot the best round of golf you can. Once you decide to go for a birdie, you still have to make it happen. In basketball, and indeed in most sports, you're playing directly against your opponent. It's an action/reaction relationship that takes place in real time. You're fighting for rebounds, contesting shots, moving to get open, all while another player physically stands in your way and tries to do the same. For that reason, Jordan's rings or Roger Federer's majors will always be more impressive to me than any number of events Tiger Woods may win in his career.

- With all this talk about Tom Brady, Michael Jordan and Tiger woods, I'm throwing this out there just for the sake of greatness. The music is funky, but what the hell. He has to be up there on the list of all-time athletes that completely dominated their sport.

- After watching the NBA playoffs this year, it's clear that Marv Albert is the best at what he does. By the way, I just remembered that Joe Buck does every big sports event aired on FOX and threw up a little in my mouth.

- Simmons had a tremendous article about the shelf-life of greatness in sports that I thought was really well done. The basis of the article was the "48 Special" performance by LeBron James in the playoffs and how people feel (unnecessarily) the need to diminish the accomplishments of past players to raise the status of present ones. Even if you don't really care for basketball (that's right Phil, I'm talking to you), this is definitely a good read for anyone that likes any sport.